Much Ado
by DramaGeek
Summary: UPDATED! Chapter 5 is finally up! Fed up with everyone’s favourite non-couple, Greg devises a plan to bring them together (with a little help from William Shakespeare). Also a case file. (GS)
1. Cupid's Glory Shall Be Ours

Much Ado 

**Summary:**

Fed up with everyone's favourite non-couple, Greg devises a plan to bring them together (with a little help from William Shakespeare). Also a case file. (GS)

**Disclaimer:**

I don't own anything, not even the shoes I'm wearing right now. Wait ... I'm not wearing shoes...

**Author's Note:**

This is my first fic ever, but don't go easy on me, I want to improve! (PS: I'm Canadian so there will be some different spellings, like "favourite". I hope you can handle a few extra U's. : P)

Poor Greg was bored to tears. It was an unusually slow night and it appeared that his services were no longer required. Catherine and Nick where just finishing up a homicide, they would be done by the end of shift, Warrick was working on a robbery, but there was no rush, because the stolen items had already been recovered at a local pawnshop, and as far as Greg could tell, Grissom and Sara were completing unfinished paperwork. It had gotten so bad he had even begun to build a house of cards. The house was soon abandoned, however, when Greg noticed a determined Sara marching past the DNA lab.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Car crash near the strip, Gris and I are heading over there to see if anything looks suspicious, but it sounds pretty run-of-the-mill, so don't expect any excitement. See yeah later, Frank Lloyd Wright."

And with that she was gone. Greg swung by Grissom's office, but sure enough, he had left as well. It was time, Greg decided; this maybe the last chance he would get to put his plans in motion.

It wasn't hard to find Catherine; she had been in the layout room for most of the night. Greg casually entered the room, but didn't announce his presence until he had closed the door behind him.

"Can I help you, Greg?" Catherine asked a bit irritated.

"Actually you can. What are you doing after shift?"

"Your too young for me Greggo,"

"I'm not asking you out, there is a much more pressing matter we must attend to."

"And that is?"

Greg glance around the room nervously, "The walls have ears,"

"So do I,"

"I'll tell you what, all will be revealed after shift, at the dinner." Catherine surveyed him skeptically. "Trust me Cath, you'll want to hear this."

"Fine---"

"But you must solemnly swear to speak of this to no one, especially anyone from the lab. Lose lips sink ships, remember?"

"All right, Greg." With that she went back to work, nothing more was said, which suited Greg just fine. There were other people he needed to speak to and his time was running short.

When Sara arrived at the crime scene she was greeted first by the familiar, yellow crime scene tape and secondly by Brass. "The victims names are Adam and Jane Kenneth. Mr. Kenneth is with the paramedics," he gestured towards a balding man, sitting in the back of the ambulance. "Mrs. Kenneth is on the pavement, some distance from the vehicle, dead. I haven't taken his statement yet, wanna come?"

"Sure."

As they neared the ambulance Sara began to see how upset the man was. His whole body was shaking. The paramedics had him wrapped in a blanket as hey treated his head wound. "Mr. Kenneth, I'm Jim Brass and this is Sara Sidle from the crime lab. We would like to ask you some questions." The man nodded, although it was clear his mind was somewhere else (perhaps a few hundred feet up the road). "Can you tell us what happened?"

"Well ... Janey ... I mean my wife and I were coming home from our eighth anniversary. She was exhausted so I told her I would drive. There was nobody else on the road. I looked away for a millisecond and ... it was like I hit a brick wall, only ... there was still nothing in front of me. My head was spinning and ... and I reached for Jane but ... she wasn't there."

"Do you know if Jane was wearing a seat belt?" Sara asked kindly.

"Oh yes, she always ... wait, no she wasn't because she was trying to sleep. She took it off to be more comfortable..." the man began to shake more valiantly.

"Is that enough?" the paramedic asked, although it was more of a statement than a question. "I have to get this patient to the hospital." Brass nodded and in not two minutes, the ambulance was gone.

With her eyes, Sara followed the ambulance until it was just a light on the horizon. In a way criminal cases were easier; at least there was a "bad guy". How do you bring peace of mind to a grieving husband, when it is an accident? To take her mind off this line of thought she turned to Brass, "So, where's our fearless leader?"

"Over with the body, were else?"

As Sara approached the primary crime scene she was surprised to see David wheeling away the body and Grissom missing entirely. She was about to call out to him when something caught her eye. It lay on the ground just in front of the car. As she picked it up she heard a familiar voice say, "What have you got?" Gill Grissom was still in the car, but he had opened the door enough to talk to her.

"Light filament, from a car's head or tail light." As she stared down at it she couldn't help but smile, "There was another car here." She didn't need to see Grissom to know his reaction. Still staring at the tiny piece of metal Sara had a clear image of an inquisitive Grissom with one eyebrow raised. "Both of the car's head light filaments are still intact," Sara said, answering the questions he had never verbally asked. "Plus, there is no melted glass on the filament. When the light is on, the filament glows as a result of heat. If the light is broken while it is on, the glass collides with the filament and melts on to it. You know, Cath and I worked a case in which one SUV pushed another on to the railway tracks in front of a train. Only in the beginning no one saw the second SUV because it was black and its lights were out. We found the same kind of filament there ... Grissom, are you even listening to me?" The silence that followed seemed to be an accurate answer. Learning from her mistake, Sara waited until she was just inside the passenger door to pose her next question, "What are you doing?"

"I should think that would have been obvious," he responded, not looking up from the seatbelt release he was dusting.

"Why are you looking inside the _victim's _car in an auto accident? Do you know something?"

"No, just being thorough," he said with a smirk, as he finished collecting the prints. "I found some dark paint transfer on the front of the vehicle, I think you might be right about that second car."

"Oh, so you were listening to me."

"I always listen to you." The seemingly offhand statement reminded Sara of many previous comments made by her companion. As far as she could tell though, they never really meant anything, and if they did, Grissom didn't know it.

"So, what do you think happened here?" she asked, breaking eye contact with him and staring down the empty street.

"I don't know. We'll know more once we've gotten back to the lab."

Greg was purposely on the late side, to allow everyone else time to show up. He didn't want any of them questioning him without the rest of the group; they were CSI's, they were bound to get something out of him. When at last he did arrive, he was almost overjoyed to see the six confused and slightly annoyed eyes staring up at him. Catherine Willows, Nick Stokes, and Warrick Brown, Las Vegas' finest, baffled by the likes of him. Greg wished he could live in that moment just a little while longer, but they were all tired and would not appreciate him taking anymore of their time.

"Let's get down to business," Greg mused as he took a seat with his colleagues, "I have asked you all here to---"

"Wait," Warrick budded in, slightly perplexed, "where's Grissom?"

"And Sara?" Nick added, "Aren't we going to wait for them?"

"They weren't invited. Now as I was saying..." Greg couldn't help but notice the look that was passed between the CSI's. Very well, he thought, I suppose I'll have explain this to them as best I can. "Do you guys remember that theatre major I was dating?"

"Yeah, blond, right? Veronica?"

"Wait, what do you mean by "was"?" Catherine asked, already quite sure of what the answer would be.

"Simply that we are not seeing each other now. She was way too artsy for me. She was always talking about "truth" and her inner ... something or other. But she was pretty hot, wasn't she?" He said the last part to the men; he didn't really want to see the look that Catherine was giving him. "Anyways, being the gentleman that I am I figured it was only right to go see at least one of her shows before I broke it off."

Catherine couldn't help but smile as she envisioned Greg breaking up with his date as soon as the curtains fell. "What does this have to do with anything?" She asked, as she returned to reality.

"Well the play they put on was Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing", and it gave me some brilliant ideas on how to... solve a continuous office _problem_." They all looked at him as though he had two heads. "You know, pertaining to the two members of our team that are not present." He felt like he was growing a third head. How was it that they could be so oblivious, they were CSI's for crying out loud. "Sara and Grissom? Have you guys never noticed the way those two... are?"

"You mean how they are both in love with each other, but they are each so confused about it they deny it to everyone, including themselves."

To be honest, Greg hadn't anticipated such an exact, matter-of-fact response to his question, especially out of Nick. It wasn't just that that surprised him; it was also the look on Warrick and Catherine's faces, a look that seemed to suggest that they were about to say the exact same thing. "So you guys have noticed it all along?"

"Yeah,"

"Of course,"

"Duh,"

"Then why haven't you tried to do anything about it?"

Nick and Warrick just looked at each other, and Warrick verbalized what they were both thinking, "We assumed they would figure it out sooner or later. Why, should we have done something?" All eyes turned to Catherine.

"Hey, don't look at me. I'm the sole reason they got this far."

"Which is where?"

"He bought her that plant." Her three companions seemed to roll their eyes in perfect unison. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nevertheless," Greg said, trying to steer the conversation back to his brilliant plan, "I have come up with a way to get them together for good."

"Yeah, thanks to Shakespeare."

"And who knows more about love than Shakespeare?"

Grissom might have called him on it; he would have explained that _another person_'s view on love were more accurate because... and then he would have supported his argument with some lofty quote, and an unfailing, superior look. The three CSI's, however were far too tired: they simply shut-up, and allowed Greg to continue. "Well in "Much Ado About Nothing", what happens is... well lots happens, but the important part is that a bunch of people devise and execute a plan to get two individuals to fall in love."

"Wait a minute, I think I've seen this one," Nick said, looking thoughtful for a moment, "Hey, were are we supposed to get the love dust?"

"That's "A Mid Summer's Night Dream"!" Catherine snapped, "Even I know that one."

"I was kidding," Nick said, defensively.

"Anyways... the two lovers were named Benedick and Beatrice, and the plan went something like this. The men waited until they knew Benedick was eavesdropping on their conversation. Once he was, they talked amongst themselves (so that he could hear, of course) of how much Beatrice loved him. The women then did the same thing to Beatrice, and bam, love!"

"That's it? That's the brilliant plan, 'I heard someone likes you'?"

"Who's to say that that would even work in real life? These are intelligent people, they are not going to fall head over heals because someone has a crush on them."

"But that's not the case here, "Greg said, thinking fast. "You said it yourself, 'they are both in love with each other, but they are both confused' the main reason they are confused is that they don't know how the other feels. Trust me, guys this could work! And besides if it doesn't, where's the harm."

"You mean other than it becoming completely and utterly awkward between the two of them?"

"Could it be any worse then it is now?"

A thoughtful silence floated over the table, like a warm breeze. Four scientific minds were each performing a risk-benefit analysis of the situation. True: this could lead to awkwardness, but it was also true that this chance wouldn't be available forever. It would not be long before one of them threw in the towel, and then it would be too late. Perhaps it was already.

"Okay," Catherine said, breaking the silence at last, "I'm in."

"Yeah, me too," Warrick chimed, "Those two deserve a little happiness."

All eyes turned to Nick; "Well hell yeah, let's do it!"

"Okay my little cupids, meeting adjourned!"

Sara was on her way to see Houches about the black paint chips when Grissom caught up with her. "I was just talking to Brass, Mr. Kenneth had a fairly large life insurance policy for his wife".

"How large?"

"One million dollars," although he kept a straight face while he said it Sara could tell Grissom was trying not to smirk.

"I didn't realize the Kenneth's were that wealthy".

"They're not. In fact dear, old Mr. Kenneth is two hundred thousand dollars in debt". Now the smirk was unmistakable.

"So, what, your thinking... motive?"

"It looks that way".

"But this was an accident."

"We don't know that for sure. I'm going to go see Jackie about the prints"

"I was just about to check in on Houches".

"Good. Meet me in the garage when you're done". Grissom saw the puzzled look that past across the face of his companion, "We have a crime scene to reexamine".

Sara had noticed the printout of her results sitting on the edge of Houches' desk, and had swiped them before he was able to turn around. She didn't have time for him to show off (besides she didn't need any more of his not-so-subtle allusions to her and Grissom). She read through the file in the front seat of the Kenneth's vehicle as she waited for her supervisor. The colour of the paint chips was "Black Mamba", and fortunately it was only offer on a particular vehicle, Hummers. _It makes sense, _she thought, _no wonder the second car was able to leave the scene_. Her internal monologue was partially interrupted by the arrival of Grissom.

"Did you know I once worked a case where a couple had died of carbon monoxide poisoning, because they where having intercourse while parked in their garage and they had left their car idling?"

"Why didn't they just go up to their bedroom?"

"I don't know..." Grissom appeared really be pondering the question, and as a result missed the completely confused look Sara was giving him as to the relevance of his comment.

"Did Jackie tell you anything useful?"

"The victim's prints on the seatbelt, husband's prints on the wheel, the seatbelt release however, was all smudges, she could not get any useable prints off it". As he said the last part he off handedly tossed her the smudges he had collected to illustrate his point. Not that it was necessary; Sara had seen smudged prints before. She didn't really even look at it; instead she turned back to Grissom.

"So we have motive, but no evidence to support a murder, and a second vehicle we know nothing about, except that it's a Hummer," Sara held up her results before he could ask how she acquired this new information.

"Okay, let's play it out. You're Jane Kenneth, I'm Adam and we are on our way home from our anniversary dinner".

"All right," _Cast as a married couple_, Sara wondered is Grissom saw the irony in that.

"Well if Jackie could get victims prints off the seatbelt we know that she had it one for at least some of the trip, but Mr. Kenneth said she took it off so she could get more comfortable and go to sleep".

"Then I suggest you go to sleep,"

Sara put her against the window, but instantly moved it because of the awkward angle it put her neck at. She tossed and turned on the seat, tried every conceivable position, but none of them yielded any comfort. "The vic was my height, right?"

"There abouts, why?"

"Whether the seatbelt's on or not I'm not going to be comfortable here. Unless I recline the seat, but it was upright when we found it".

"I'm sure you can manage it," Grissom had to smile at the insolent look that Sara gave him just before resting her head against the back of her seat, still facing him, and closing her eyes. "Alright, so it's late, we have been driving for a while, you've fallen asleep, and I"

"Take your eyes off the road for just a second".

"Right. I probably glance lovingly down at my sleeping wife". Sara quickly opened and shut one of her eyes, but it was enough to catch the loving look Grissom was giving her. She tried to figure out if he was: (a) role playing, (b) teasing, or (c) serious. _It probably wasn't (c)_, She thought, and waited for him to continue. "And then we hit _something_, my airbag expanse, and you get flung from the vehicle".

"I don't have to act out being thrown through the window, do I?" With her character now deceased Sara sat up straight and rubbed the back of her neck. "It's too bad this was a 98 model, the newer cars have passenger side airbags. Even without a seat belt it would have..." Grissom was drumming his fingers against the steering wheel and it caught her attention, "Where were the husband's hands at the moment of impact?"

"On the wheel, I would suppose".

"They couldn't have been, I saw the paramedics treating him, he sustained no injuries to his wrists."

"So his hands were not on the steering wheel, his eyes were not on the road, is it any wonder why he hit something?"

Sara barely heard his rhetorical question. She was trying to put the whole thing together. Even if it was his plan to hit the Hummer it did not explain why he hadn't had his hands on the wheel. Although we had both a seatbelt and airbag, holding on to the wheel provided a bit support, at least mentally. It didn't make sense for him to just... let go. Sara began to glance around the car, trying to see what Adam Kenneth saw, searching for something, anything he might have reached for. Her eyes at last fell on the dash where she had placed Grissom's smudges. Picking it up, she now stared at the prints intently. Although most of the ridge detail hand been lost she was still able to make out that they were fingerprints. Her thoughts flashed back to the night before and in her mind's eye she saw Grissom collecting the prints. "I know where his hands were," Sara said triumphantly, holding up the seeming useless smudges. "These prints are upside-down. If I were going to undo the seatbelt I would have to reach over with my right hand, making my fingers point towards you, that's not the direction of these prints. If I thought sleeping in here was uncomfortable, it would be nothing compared to trying to twist my arm around, to make these prints. It had to be the Mr. Kenneth".

"He knew the Hummer would be there. He undid his wife seatbelt at the last second so that she would be thrown from the car".

"I think we should call Brass".


	2. Some Cupids Kill with Arrows

A/N: Sorry this took SO long! Thanks to CassieHill, for always being there to bounce ideas off of. Enjoy!

Sara was on her way to see Hodges about the black paint chips when Grissom caught up with her. "I was just talking to Brass, Mr. Kenneth had a fairly large life insurance policy for his wife".

"How large?"

"One million dollars," although he kept a straight face while he said it Sara could tell Grissom was trying not to smirk.

"I didn't realize the Kenneth's were that wealthy".

"They're not. In fact dear, old Mr. Kenneth is two hundred thousand dollars in debt". Now the smirk was unmistakable.

"So, what, your thinking... motive?"

"It looks that way".

"But this was an accident."

"We don't know that for sure. I'm going to go see Jacqui about the prints"

"I was just about to check in on Hodges".

"Good. Meet me in the garage when you're done". Grissom saw the puzzled look that past across the face of his companion, "We have a crime scene to reexamine".

Sara had noticed the printout of her results sitting on the edge of Hodges' desk, and had swiped them before he was able to turn around. She didn't have time for him to show off (besides she didn't need any more of his not-so-subtle allusions to her and Grissom). She read through the file in the front seat of the Kenneth's vehicle as she waited for her supervisor. The colour of the paint chips was "Black Mamba", and fortunately it was only offer on a particular vehicle, Hummers. _It makes sense, _she thought, _no wonder the second car was able to leave the scene_. Her internal monologue was momentarily interrupted by the arrival of Grissom.

"Did you know I once worked a case where a couple had died of carbon monoxide poisoning, because they where having intercourse while parked in their garage and they had left their car idling?"

"Why didn't they just go up to their bedroom?"

"I don't know..." Grissom appeared really be pondering the question, and as a result missed the completely confused look Sara was giving him as to the relevance of his comment.

"Did Jacqui tell you anything useful?"

"The victim's prints on the seatbelt, husband's prints on the wheel, the seatbelt release however, was all smudges, she could not get any useable prints off it". As he said the last part he off handedly tossed her the smudges he had collected to illustrate his point. Not that it was necessary; Sara had seen smudged prints before. She didn't really even look at it; instead she turned back to Grissom.

"So we have motive, but no evidence to support a murder, and a second vehicle we know nothing about, except that it's a Hummer," Sara held up her results before he could ask how she acquired this new information.

"Okay, let's play it out. You're Jane Kenneth, I'm Adam and we are on our way home from our anniversary dinner".

"All right," _Cast as a married couple_, Sara wondered if Grissom saw the irony in that.

"Well if Jackie could get victims prints off the seatbelt we know that she had it one for at least some of the trip, but Mr. Kenneth said she took it off so she could get more comfortable and go to sleep".

"Then I suggest you go to sleep,"

Sara put her against the window, but instantly moved it because of the awkward angle it put her neck at. She tossed and turned on the seat, tried every conceivable position, but none of them yielded any comfort. "The vic was my height, right?"

"There abouts, why?"

"Whether the seatbelt's on or not I'm not going to be comfortable here. Unless I recline the seat, but it was upright when we found it".

"I'm sure you can manage it," Grissom had to smile at the insolent look that Sara gave him just before resting her head against the back of her seat, still facing him, and closing her eyes. "Alright, so it's late, we have been driving for a while, you've fallen asleep, and I"

"Take your eyes off the road for just a second".

"Right. I probably glance lovingly down at my sleeping wife". Sara quickly opened and shut one of her eyes, but it was enough to catch the loving look Grissom was giving her. She tried to figure out if he was: (a) role playing, (b) teasing, or (c) serious. _It probably wasn't (c)_, She thought, and waited for him to continue. "And then we hit _something_, my airbag expanse, and you get flung from the vehicle".

"I don't have to act out being thrown through the window, do I?" With her character now deceased Sara sat up straight and rubbed the back of her neck. "It's too bad this was a 96 model, the newer cars have passenger side airbags. Even without a seat belt it would have..." Grissom was drumming his fingers against the steering wheel and it caught her attention, "Where were the husband's hands at the moment of impact?"

"On the wheel, I would suppose".

"They couldn't have been, I saw the paramedics treating him, he sustained no injuries to his wrists."

"So his hands were not on the steering wheel, his eyes were not on the road, is it any wonder why he hit something?"

Sara barely heard his rhetorical question. She was trying to put the whole thing together. Even if it was his plan to hit the Hummer it did not explain why he hadn't had his hands on the wheel. Although he had both a seatbelt and airbag, holding on to the wheel provided a bit support, at least mentally. It didn't make sense for him to just... let go. Sara began to glance around the car, trying to see what Adam Kenneth saw, searching for something, anything he might have reached for. Her eyes at last fell on the dash where she had placed Grissom's smudges. Picking it up, she now stared at the prints intently. Although most of the ridge detail hand been lost she was still able to make out that they were fingerprints. Her thoughts flashed back to the night before and in her mind's eye she saw Grissom collecting the prints. "I know where his hands were," Sara said triumphantly, holding up the seeming useless smudges. "These prints are upside-down. If I were going to undo the seatbelt I would have to reach over with my right hand, making my fingers point towards you, that's not the direction of these prints. If I thought sleeping in here was uncomfortable, it would be nothing compared to trying to twist my arm around, to make these prints. It had to be the Mr. Kenneth".

"He knew the Hummer would be there. He undid his wife seatbelt at the last second so that she would be thrown from the car".

"I think we should call Brass".

Although Nick and Warrick even practiced exactly what they would say when Grissom arrived, they both had to admit they were still rather nervous when it came to their _performance_.

"Okay he's on his way," Greg said as he reentered the DNA lab.

"What did you tell him?" Warrick asked, already sure Grissom could smell and setup mile away.

"I didn't say anything _to_ him, I just paged him".

"You paged him?" Nick spluttered in disbelief, "You paged him to the DNA lab when he is working an auto accident? He couldn't have giving you any DNA evidence,"

"Oh, he didn't," Greg said offhandedly, keeping careful watch for Grissom.

"Then why should he come down here?"

"Curiosity, my dear boy. Because, like you said, what reason do I have to page him? And the man does not disappoint! Places everyone, it's time to begin".

Grissom was just about to take a break when he received Greg's page. Most days he would have ignored it, but they were making leeway on their case and that always put him in a good mood, so he was happy to oblige the young lab rat. He could just barely hear Nick and Warrick, but it wasn't until he was a metre from the door that he could understand what they were really saying.

"No way man, I don't believe you!"

"Come on," insisted Greg. "You can see just by looking at her that Sara is in love with him."

Upon hearing that Grissom froze. He desperately wanted to believe that they were talking about someone other than him. Nick, however quickly shattered that wish.

"I know she has a crush on Grissom, but love?"

"Yes love! Warrick, back me up."

"Sorry Nicky, but I agree with Greg. She's head over heels."

By this point Grissom had finally had enough sense to move to the left of the doorway to avoid being seen by any of the occupants of the lab. He stood there shell-shocked listening to his meddlesome colleges.

"Has she ever told you this?" Nick asked Greg, a little over the top.

"No... but I heard it from the next best person."

"Grissom?"

"Are you kidding?" Warrick added in, "She could be lying on his desk in wearing nothing but a bra and panties and he still wouldn't get it!"

"Tell me about it. If she gave me half the hints she throws at him I would have married her by now." Everyone was a little taken aback by how truthful Greg sounded.

"So," Warrick said, trying to steer the conversation back to the topic at hand, "Who is your source on Sara and Grissom?"

"Catherine."

Grissom had to admit that that did strengthen their argument. There were always rumours circling about Sara and him, but if Catherine was repeating it something must have changed. As if continuing from where Grissom had left off Nick asked, "So, what does Cathe know? Spill!"

"Well, you guys must solemnly swear to repeat this to no one. I'm serious! If Catherine finds out that I'm telling you this she'll... she'll never tell me gossip again." Even Grissom, shocked and confused as he was, had to roll his eyes at the last remark. "Okay, Cathe said she went into the locker room last Tuesday and found Sara sitting on the bench madly scribbling on a piece of paper. Catherine didn't think anything of it, but when she said "Hello," to her Sara jumped a mile and quickly hid the paper"

"Yeah, but how do you know it was a love letter?"

It was a good thing Grissom could no longer see them because Greg and Warrick had gone ghostly pale. Nick had skipped a bunch of lines. If they didn't act soon Grissom would figure out what they were doing. It was time for a little ... what was the word? ... Oh yes, _adlibbing_!

"For once your sarcasm is right. Believe it or not that's exactly what Catherine found. You see," Greg said, skillfully leading them back to their script. "As Sara left the locker room she tossed out what she had been writing. Catherine, of course, picked it up and found Sara and Grissom 'between the sheets'!" There was a dramatic pause before they continued again.

"Should we tell Grissom?"

"NO!" Warrick and Greg chorused, now fully in role.

"If you do that all the gossip dries up."

"Besides, who's to say he would even believe you?" Warrick added heartily. "And if he did, would he do anything about it?"

"So what do we do?"

"Nicky, my boy, this is out of our hands."

Having now completed their task the three occupants of the DNA lab all breathed a sign of relief. The rest of the plan was Catherine's responsibility now.

"Well," said Warrick heading towards the door, "We should get back to work. Catch you later, Grego!" and with that they were gone. They couldn't help but notice that Grissom was no longer standing in the doorway. "I hope we know what we're doing," Warrick mused as they headed to the layout room.

Grissom sat in his office replaying the whole conversation over in his mind, as if it were some TV flashback. It didn't seem possible; in fact it was decidedly impossible. Sara writing a love letter, it was absurd. He knew that he should ignore the whole conversation, the only thing that was holding him back was the fact that that was the exact course of action _they _had said he would take... Could Sara really be in love with him? She had asked him out last year, but she had made on inquiries since then.

Regardless of her feelings for him, Grissom began to realize he had no understanding of how he felt about her. She was his friend. But was that it? If that were true why was it that he let her get away with everything rather than get into an argument with her? Why was it that Debbie Marlin's case had affected him that much?

As if on clue Sara entered his office, "Hey Gris, Brass is still working on that warrant, there's some holdup at the clerks office, but he says we should have it in about an hour."

Grissom barely heard a word she said. He had tried to scan her face for some proof of what the others had been talking about, but she was all he saw. Much to his surprise he realized she was rather... beautiful. Had be noticed that before?

"Do you want to have lunch? Or whatever you call it at this hour." Grissom was speechless. They were right. She was asking him out! Or was she? "I mean I was just going to microwave some burritos, but I can make you some too."

"No thanks," he managed to get out semi-normally.

"Okay, I'll come find you when I have the warrant." She casually left his office unaware of the trap awaiting her.

(TBC)


	3. Some With Traps

A/N: See I'm updatingâ please don't hurt meâby the way, thanks for all the reviews!!! You guys are great.

Catherine paced back and forth in the break room. Unlike the men this was not the result of nerves, but rather excitement. She had been trying to set those two up for years and even she had to admit this harebrained plan might just work. "You ready?" she asked Jacqui, who had only recently been recruited for this mission.

"Yeah, I think so,"

"Just remember, whatever is said, you're for the relationship and I'm against itâ she's here."

"So," Jacqui began, also hearing Sara approaching, "Sara and Grissom are dating now?"

"No, that's not what I said."

"But you said he likes her, more than likes, so what's the problem?"

"It's Grissomâ he's not exactly 'Mr. Emotional'. And Sara"

"What's wrong with him with Sara? I think they make a great couple."

"They're just tooâ similar. Science nerds should not date other science nerds."

Making sure she could be seen from the doorway, Jacqui rolled her eyes at Catherine's last statement. "Do you think Grissom will tell Sara how he feels?"

"Not a chance."

"Then maybe we should tell her. They shouldn't be kept apart just because he's too scared to take action."

"No, we can't" Catherine stopped instantly. Sara had just entered the break room.

"Sorry," Sara said, "Am I interrupting something?"

"No, I was just telling Jacqui about the scuba diver up in the tree."

"Well," This sudden turn of events was more than Jacqui had volunteered for. She figured the best solution would be to get out of there as soon as she could. "I'd love to stay but I still have about a million prints from Warrick to go through. Bye." In a flash she was off.

"I should get going to," said a much more convincing Catherine and in no time at all Sara was alone in the break room.

An omniscient narrator is the only one that could have known that Sara's reaction to the "trap" was much different than Grissom's. She wasn't confused so much asâ angry. It didn't even really bother her that they were talking about her and Grissom, it was more their "solution" that was pissing her off. How would telling her about his feelings have any affect on the situation? She was an observant woman; she knew how Grissom felt about her. As much as she had tried to forget it, every moment between the two of them had been logged away in her memory. All the sweet things he said without meaning to, the confession he gave to Debbie Marlin's killer. She had been waiting all year for him to act on it, but nothing ever came. They should be telling him about _his _feelings, not her.

At that moment Brass entered the break room, "Well it took some doing, but I got your warrant."

"Good. Tell Grissom to meet me there." And with that she was on her way to the parking lot. Watching her leave Brass couldn't help but wonder what it was that Gill had done to piss her off today.

When Grissom arrived at the Kenneth residence he saw Sara standing with her arms crossed on the doorstep. As he approached he couldn't help but notice she was glaring at him. Maybe it was just his imagination. "Any luck?"

"He's not answering the door. Brass is just rounding up the artillery." Just then Brass rounded the corner with several officers. In not ten seconds the door was broken in and the officers were inside. Grissom and Sara could hear them shout out, "Main floor clear" before they moved on to the upstairs.

"Well after" Sara had already moved into the house before he could finish. The sun had yet to rise so the only light in the room came from their flashlights. As they examined the living room Sara stopped in front of the mantle, "He took down all the pictures of her." Out of habit Grissom stood right behind her in order to see what she was looking at. She immediately moved away. Grissom felt it instantly. Without really being conscious of it he had been carefully analyzing Sara's actions and it wasn't promising. In love with him? Today he'd be surprised if she even liked him. This realization bothered him because he was beginning to think he might be falling for her. At that moment the silence was broken by Brass bellowing from upstairs, "You guys really need to see this."

They followed his voice into the master bedroom only to find Mr. Kenneth with three bullet holes in his chest.

"That's great. Someone has killed our killer." Sara was not having the best shift of her life.

"What are the odds that this is unrelated?"

"Well, we are still missing an accomplice." Although Grissom was answering Brass' question he directed his statement to Sara. "Maybe he refused to pay now that the deed was done."

Sara smiled at him and for a moment it was just like it always was, but then Sara remembered that nothing ever came of these "moments". "I'll take downstairs and the perimeter. You can take in here." Grissom, Brass and the officers watched her go, all of them quite sure Grissom must have done something wrong.

Sara would have preferred to work around the body, but she had to get out of that room. She didn't even know why she was so annoyed, but she knew she had to stop thinking about it; there was work to do. Murder was easier to understand anyway.

The first question that must be answered: how did the perk get in? All of the windows in the house were closed and intact and both the front and back doors were locked. Mr. Kenneth must have let his killer in or the killer had a key, either way, Kenneth had to have known his attacker, which complimented the theory that it was the accomplice. There was still the matter of: how did the perk get out? Only the front door could be locked from the outside and it was locked when they arrived. She would have to ask Grissom if the vic still had his keys. She dusted the knob for prints but it didn't seem promising. Her scan of the perimeter was equally as dismal. The house seemed to be surrounded by concrete and as a result she was unable to get any shoeprint and tire treads.

Grissom's luck was about the same. Considering how sloppy Kenneth had been he was surprised at how professional his murderer was. The only blood in the room was on the bed underneath Kenneth, suggesting that he was lying down or sleeping when he was killed. Also due to the angle of elevation and the lack of GSR on his clothes the shot was probably taken from the doorway. Other than that there was not much more the room could tell him. There were no prints anywhere and the whole house seemed veryâclean. Unfortunately Grissom couldn't be sure whether this was a result of the killer covering his tracks, or if the Kenneth's had had it cleaned. The only other thing of note was the fact that everything appeared to be present, that is there were so signs of theft. The Kenneths might not have been wealthy, but there were many items of value all through the house, it was strange that the perp hadn't tries to take on of them.

The shift was almost over by the time they finally returned. By this point the entire graveyard shift was in on the scheme and were waiting patiently to see the 'progress'. They all watched with baited breath as Grissom and Sara walked down the hall to the layout room. The reaction of everyone was identical, "What did those four do?" The anger on Sara's face and the hurt look on Grissom's were not missed by anyone. Things were worse.

That morning as the sun rose on Nevada it rose on a murdered murderer, an annoyed Sara, a confused and hurt Grissom, and four CSI's wondering what the hell they did wrong.

(TBC)


	4. The Speed of Your Tongue

A/N See, I'm getting better at updating.

After witnessing the result of their actions the four "cupids" decided an emergency meeting must be called. They met at the very same table they had been at the previous morning, and although the subject they were discussing was the same the mood was completely different. For what felt like an eternity they all just sat there looking at each other, finally Nick broke the silence, "Man, we screwed up bad."

"I don't understand," Greg said in disbelief, "what went wrong?"

"I guess Sara and Grissom don't act like fictitious characters from 400 years ago."

Greg glared at Warrick for his unproductive comment.

"Okay," said Catherine, at last taking control of the group. "Everything that is happening is as a result of our actions so we are the ones that have to fix it."

"But how?"

"Not with another trap." Nick looked anxious just talking about it.

"Nick's right, beating around the bush doesn't work with these two."

"That's true," everyone could tell that Greg was desperately trying to regain control of the group, "Maybe we should just speak directly to one of them, but which one?"

Instantly, and in perfect unison his three colleagues all stated the same name, "Sara,"

"She's at least observant,"

"And I think she is more likely to believe us if we go to talk with her,"

"Great minds do think alike. Now for the harder question: who's going to talk to Sara?"

Although no one spoke up quite as readily as they had before, the choice seemed clear, and Catherine knew it. "Why are you all looking at me?"

"Face it Cath, you're the best person for the job. I mean this is the kind of thing that should be discussed woman to woman"

"Oh come on, this was all Greg's idea in the first place, and " Catherine could already tell this was not a fight she was going to win. "Fine, I'll talk to Sara. Any suggestions on what I should say?" The fact that all she got in return was snickering didn't fill her with confidence.

Sara wasn't in the break room for assignments at the beginning of shift, which forced Catherine to go look for her. She finally found Sara in an out of the way corner of the lab, working on a computer. "Hey can I talked to you for a minute," Catherine began, still not sure what she was going to say to her.

" 'Course, what do you want to talk about," Sara said more to the computer screen.

"Grissom,"

"Oh, I think he's in his office,"

Catherine chose to ignore that comment and move on. "Sara, this thing between the two of you is not going to go away just by ignoring it. You have to deal with itâ before it passes you by."

"I don't know what you mean." Sara said offhandedly, continuing to work.

"Don't be coy, we both know how he feels about you, and I think you feel the same."

At that Sara finally looked up from the computer screen. "Let me get this straight, I'm the one that understands what's happening here so you came to tell me about it?" Sara took a calming breath and turned back to the computer, "You know I'm getting really tired of the ball being in my court. If Grissom wants to be with me, it's up to him."

Catherine took the hint and left Sara in peace. She had a scene to get to, not to mention an emergency meeting with the cupids.

Making sure no one was hanging around, Warrick, the last of the four to enter the DNA lab, closed the door behind him. "I'm guessing this meeting was called because something happened with Sara."

"She's sick of dealing with this," Catherine recounted, "and I don't blame her. Grissom is the king of mixed signals. I think we are going to have to go to the source: Grissom."

"Agreed," Greg said, "And I think you should be the one to talk to him." Nick and Warrick both nodded in agreement.

"What? Shouldn't this be discussed _man to man_?"

"Men talk about football, drinking, and girls, not emotions," Greg said plainly.

And before Catherine could snap at this Nick added, "Can you really picture any of us talking to Grissom about _this_?"

Catherine was a little taken aback. Nick had a point. The men would probably screw it up more. "Fine, I'll do it."

"My Hero!" Unfortunately Greg's little allusion was lost on everyone present.

Unlike most of her colleagues, who would stand awkwardly in the doorway waiting for Grissom to notice them, Catherine walked right into her supervisor's office, shut the door behind her and took a seat in front of his desk.

Even the oblivious Grissom had to notice this. "Can I help you Catherine?"

"We need to talk Gil," Grissom simply raised his eyebrow, "about Sara."

Grissom shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I think she is"

"And don't tell me she's working on the computer in the other room." Catherine rolled her eyes at the similarity between the two of them. "Grissom, how do you feel about Sara, and I'm not talking about her as a colleague or as a CSI, how do you feel about _her_?"

Grissom looked thoughtful for a moment. He set his pen down and took off his glasses. The action reminded him of Sara. How many times had he done it as a result of her? How many times was she no longer there by the time he raised his head. _I wish I was like you, Grissom. I wish I didn't feel anything. _"I don't feel anything" he muttered to himself ironically.

Catherine, either not hearing him or choosing to ignore him, tried another tactic, "Lift your head up out of the microscope, Gil. She's in love with you. You know that don't you?" In response Grissom merely put his glasses back on and continued his work as if nothing had happened. "If you don't act on this soon she's going to leave and when she does you are not going to be able to bring her back withâ with something you can look for in the yellow pages."

Upon hearing Catherine's last comment Grissom's whole face changed. He set aside the work in front of him and rushed for the door. Catherine caught his arm as he walked past her, "Where are you going?"

"To find Sara."

Grissom had only moved a few meters down the hall when he ran head on into Sara. "I know how to find our missing vehicle. Even a Hummer would have sustained damage in an accident like that, and there can't be that many places in Vegas that can repair specialty cars like Hummers. So all we really need is"

"A phone book?" Sara said, sporting her gapped tooth grin and a giant book in her left hand.

"You're amazing." Sara had to blush at that comment. "Well, we should get to work."

(TBC)

A/N 2: The line "My Hero" is a pun. Hero is a character in "Much Ado About Nothing" and the only female involved in the set up of Beatrice and Benedick.


	5. The Fashion Wears Out More Apparel

**A/N:**Sorry this took so long; it's been a crazy few months. Thank you all for your reviews, they are the reason I am continuing this even when I should be working... oh well. Oh and this chapter is dedicated to my physics teacher who taught me everything I know.

"That's right, I'm looking for a Hummer that sustained... no I don't want to buy a Hummer... I'm calling on behalf of the Los Vegas police... no sir; you are not in any trouble. I am just trying to acquire some information..." Grissom couldn't help but laugh as Sara pushed her people skills to the breaking point. This was the seventh and last number they had to call, if it didn't turn up anything they were back at square one.

"That's quite alright sir. Okay, I'm looking for a Hummer that sustained a rear collision... you have one? When was it brought in? ... Two days ago? That's great... oh... no... no, that can't be the car. Thank you for your time." Sara looked like a six year old sulking as she set the phone down.

"What was wrong?"

"His Hummer was lime green." She was looking awfully cute now; she even had her arms crossed. Without realizing it Grissom went and sat down next to her on the break room couch. "You looked at all their financial records right? Did anything look out of place?"

"Nope."

"Friends and family?"

"Both their parents are dead. She had a sister in Florida; he was an only child. As for friends, I talked to bunch of them. It didn't seem like anyone cared about the Kenneths enough to kill them, much less kill for them. This is impossible! This is worse than a nettle in a haystack. I mean we don't even know if the vehicle is from this state. Not to mention it could be a rental or borrowed... or stolen,"

"If the car is impossible to find perhaps we should look for the person."

"How, under 'hit man'?" Sara began flipping through the yellow pages until she reached 'H'. All of a sudden she stopped. "I think I know how to find him. We need to check the local hospitals."

This sudden reverse in mood amused Grissom, but her plan confused him. "If he didn't take the Hummer to the shop we can't assume that he would risk going to the hospital for minor injuries."

"Unless he had to." It was times like these when Sara was glad she had a degree in Physics. "Okay, when two vehicle are in a collision they each exert a force on each other, and force is equal to mass times acceleration, right? Well acceleration is distance per time squared. If you think about it then, force is inversely proportional to time. So as time increases the force decreases. Which means that the more time an accident takes less force is applied to the occupant of the car. That's why cars are made to buckle in an accident; it prolongs the crash, weakening the force. But Hummers were built for war, they weren't built to break."

"So the force experienced by our driver would be far greater than what the Kenneths experienced."

"Yes."

"Well we have some more calls to make don't we?"

Brass smiled as he opened the door to the break room. He had just been wondering how many hours straight Gil and Sara had been working, only to find them both asleep on the couch, together. "I should've become a CSI. While I was out interviewing employees from all of the hospitals in the city, you two were what, taking a cat nap?" His comment woke them and he suppressed a smile as he watched them both look at him, then at each other, then the couch, and then back at him, a similar blush flooding over both their cheeks. Out of sympathy he handed them the folders he had collected and left the room before they felt the need to explain themselves.

Grissom graciously grabbed the pile and handed it to Sara as he logged on to the DMV's website. "The first person with consistent injuries, Michael Jauss, a twenty-seven year old from Vegas." She read out, pulling up a chair beside him.

"He's unmarried and lost his license for drunk driving two months ago. Before that he had a 1993 Ford Taurus, who's next?"

"Well here's our killer, Martha Moses, an eighty-eight year old, also from Vegas."

Grissom also smiled, but preceded to type the name in anyway, "A widow, she hasn't even renewed her license in ten years, much less own any vehicles. Anyone else?"

"Yeah, one more. James Murphy... wait a second. I remember this name. He worked with Adam Kenneth, they were partners."

"Well I think we should pay Mr. Murphy a visit. Hopefully nothing goes wrong." Sara rolled her eyes at his comment but followed him out to his SUV.

James Murphy was a middle-aged man who lived alone just outside the city. His home reminded Sara of the boys' dorms in university with cloths, books, and week-old pizza boxes all over the floor and furniture. He had let them in with a grunt and now standing in his living room Sara was quite sure he still had a hangover from the night before. "What'd you guys want to know about again?" he asked, bleary-eyed.

"Where you were Tuesday and Wednesday night." Grissom said rather irritated that he had to repeat himself for the third time.

"Right, right. I was at home."

"Can anyone confirm that?"

"Um...no I don't think so. It's just me around here," as he spoke he absentmindedly scratched the brace around his neck.

"How did you hurt your neck?" Sara asked, already aware of what he had told the hospital.

"Oh this, I was helping a friend move into his house. I tripped over one of the boxes and landed funny." Grissom and Sara exchanged looks. "I'm telling you, that's the God's honest truth."

"I didn't see a car in your driveway, do you often rent a vehicle for work."

At Grissom's last comment Mr. Murphy tensed up and unconsciously put his hands, which were also damaged, into his pocket, hiding the bruises. "You know, I've got to get ready for work. Sorry, but you'll have to go."

"He had told the hospital he had hurt himself falling down stairs. Not to mention that neither of his 'stories' could result in the type of injuries he sustained."

"It not enough for a warrant though,"

"Well we can get Brass to pull his credit, see if he..." She was interrupted by Grissom's cell phone.

He gave her an apologetic look, as he read the name on caller ID. "Speak of the devil. Grissom."

"Hey Gil, there is something you REALLY need to see. I think I found your Hummer."

(TBC)


End file.
